


choked up (not for the first time)

by nobodynoticedquint



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Bathrooms, Bulimia, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobodynoticedquint/pseuds/nobodynoticedquint
Summary: Heather Duke really hates Chandler sometimes.-or-Sometimes vomiting out your guts requires a moment of rest.





	choked up (not for the first time)

**Author's Note:**

> major trigger warnings for bulimia and cursing. enjoy!

She thought she could crack her kneecaps on the harsh bathroom tiles one of these days. Duke dropped down despite that, fingers in her mouth. No use in delaying the inevitable. She internally cringed as the burn in her throat kickstarted. Soda was a hellish idea, always burned coming up like acid on top of acid. Duke was usually so much smarter than that.

 

It was a diet soda, no calories. Coolest invention of the 20th Century, no doubt. She’d been using it to ignore her hunger pangs, but something about today weakened her willpower. Maybe it was the exponentially increasing calorie deficit. Probably not. Probably she was just fat.

 

Ouch. Fuck. Duke heard the rustling of trashy magazine pages turning outside the stall. Chandler was sitting on the counter because “someone has to supervise or you’ll end up passed out on the floor with chunks in your hair” and Mac was out sick. Duke pulled her fingers out of her mouth and spit into the toilet before flushing it and grabbing some wipes from her purse to clean herself up.

 

She sat for a minute, breathing in and out. The drained feeling got worse over time and that day marked itself no different. Duke heard the click of heels and the stall door creaked open.

 

“Are you done? God, you take forever.” Duke’s head turned. The lights were so bright outside the stall; were they always that bad?

“Fuck off, Heather.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Duke used the tile walls to push herself up. “You heard me.” A little louder that time. “Fuck. Off. I’m so damn sick of you. What gives you the right? I fucking-“ she stumbled slightly. “-shit- I, this isn’t fun for me, you know? It hurts and I feel shitty like, all the time.”

 

“Then why not stop? It’s inconvenient enough.” She picked at her nails and Duke might have vomited but from anger rather than her own will.

 

“Why? Why? You’re the one who told me to lose weight in the first place! In this bathroom no less! You stood right over there,” she gestured angrily to the far sink. Heather looked bored. “And you told me ‘I’m just saying you might want to drop some weight. You’re looking a little heavy these days.’ You said there was an easy way to make it quick. To stand there and ask why I don’t stop? Even you can’t be that fucking stupid!

 

“I did this for your fucking image. You’re such a bitch- you made me feel like shit. All you care about is how you look and how we make you look and frankly, it’s exhausting. You told me to do this. So I did. And why don’t I stop? Because we have this bullshit image and I swear I will never be fucking fat again. Fuck you, Heather.”

 

She was quiet for a moment. Her hair was thick, not falling out, not like Duke’s. Her eyes didn’t have much life in them, though. Guess one similarity never left. With a lacking sigh, Chandler studied the barely living girl before her.

 

“Never thought you’d be stupid enough to listen.”

 

The stall door creaked behind her. Duke choked on her vomit, not for the first time that day.


End file.
